


Not Meant For This

by trollmela



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-29
Updated: 2012-10-29
Packaged: 2017-11-17 07:55:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/549301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trollmela/pseuds/trollmela
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael and Adam escaped from the cage to a world that was in urgent need of fixing. Dean and Sam are allegedly dead; Bobby Singer is certainly dead; Castiel is gone. Heaven is closed even to Michael and the leviathans are close to gaining control of everything. Michael drags Adam along on his quest to help the world survive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Meant For This

**Author's Note:**

> The story begins in May 2012, but spoilers are only up to 7x10.
> 
> This story was written for the Adam Milligan Minibang. Thanks goes to my artist Votaku, whose work you can find here: [Art Masterpost](http://votaku.livejournal.com/17586.html)

The fog lifted from his ears first. He could hear a strange, high-pitched series of noises. He didn’t even try placing it because surely it wasn’t real. He realized that the noise was birds chirping at the same time as the fog lifted from his eyes and he saw a blue sky for the first time in decades. Or had it been centuries?

That, of course, was the moment it started to rain.

* * *

“Do I have to talk?” _Fuck_ , he was so tired of talking! Or rather, he was tired of using his voice at all.

Doctor Curtis replied, “You don’t have to, Adam. But it would certainly help you.”

“How do you know? Have you treated a lot of people like me?”

“No two cases are the same. But having treated many patients with your condition certainly helps.”

Adam is too tired to even laugh. He had no idea what was wrong with him, and no matter what ‘condition’ they cooked up for him, it would still be pretty damn far from the truth. But if he said that he had been in hell for a good two hundred forty years (or two, in earth time) he would be getting treatment for delusion. Instead, he was here because he couldn’t imagine surviving outside.

“I saw someone get tortured,” Adam admitted hesitantly. That much, at least, he could say.

His psychiatrist leant forward.

* * *

Adam wasn’t alone, of course. The hospital treated many other patients; some of them former soldiers who, for whatever reason, didn’t want to be treated by a clinic operating under the VHA; some had depression; others had something else to bring them there. Tom, he had been told, was in the hospital because he was paranoid and a risk for others. Two hundred forty years ago, Adam would have accepted that happily and avoided him. Then he was eaten by a ghoul that looked like his mother.

Adam would quickly regret not having spoken to Tom as soon as they met.

“I’m telling you, Doctor Johnson is an alien!” Tom whispered to him in an urgent voice. He pushed his chess piece in a move that Adam was certain wasn’t allowed. But it was only pretense anyway so the orderlies thought they were playing peacefully.

“I saw him eat Nelly!” Tom continued.

Adam didn’t know a Nelly. “Nelly? Who’s that?”

“Exactly! His mouth was like Nessie, the Loch Ness Monster in England, you know?”

“So… Nessie, the sea monster, ate Nelly?” Adam thought Loch Ness was in Scotland anyhow, but he didn’t bother getting into that.

“It was this big,” Tom went on, spreading his arms as if embracing a Redwood tree, “and it’s tongue! I swear it could lick its own butt standing. Doctor Johnson’s butt! I’m telling you, an alien took over his body. Like… possessed, you know?”

“Yeah,” Adam replied, with a shudder he couldn’t quite suppress. Possession he knew. Still, aliens?

Adam slept even less that night. He woke from his dozing for reasons he couldn’t pinpoint – perhaps there wasn’t one – and stayed awake until an orderly making the rounds to wake everyone up signaled the start of a new day.

His next appointment with Dr. Curtis was strange to say the least. Perhaps Adam had just become paranoid himself, but the psychiatrist’s eyes didn’t seem to be watching him with professional concern, but rather as if Adam was food. And that was a look Adam knew all too well to mistake it for something else.

The next night, a commotion disturbed his brain storming session on how to escape or what to say to sign himself out as quickly as possible without arousing suspicion.

When hushed voices drifted down the corridor and people started walking around briskly, Adam opened his door and stuck his head into the corridor.

“What’s going on?” He asked the next passer-by, who happened to be Doctor Johnson.

“Nothing, Mr. Neal, everything is fine. Go back to sleep.”

And Dr. Johnson nearly crowded him back into the room and closed the door. All Adam could see in his eyes was the satisfaction of an ill-gained meal.

It was only at breakfast that he heard from the man sitting next to him at the table that Tom had disappeared. Adam’s urge to flee got only stronger.

He had just put away his tray and reached a decision when an orderly approached.

“Mr. Neal? A man is here to see you. He says he’s your brother.”

Adam froze for a moment. Had Sam or Dean found him after all, as unlikely as it was? But there, perhaps, lay his escape route!

“Where is he?” Adam asked eagerly.

“He’s waiting in the hall.”

Adam followed the orderly, nearly stepping on the his heel several times. In the hall, when he finally caught a glimpse of his visitor, he jerked to a halt. It wasn’t Sam. It wasn’t Dean either.

In fact, he didn’t know this guy at all. That was, until he got a good look at him. Once again, it was the eyes which revealed his true identity to Adam: they were omniscient, penetrating, inhuman.

“Michael,” Adam realized with a gasp. He nearly didn’t hear the archangel say:

“Adam, it is so good to see you.”

Adam wanted to run, he really did, but Michael grasped him by the arm. It looked like he was greeting his supposed brother, but in fact, he was keeping him from running away. Adam steeled himself.

“What… what are you doing here? What do you want?” He demanded harshly.

Michael tilted his head. “I only wanted to see you, brother.”

Of course; they were still within hearing range of the orderly.

“You can take a walk in the garden,” the man told them, completely unaware of the tension between them.

“I think we will do that,” Michael replied stiffly and started leading Adam away.

The garden was a good idea, Adam thought. He could get away more easily from there. Ditching Michael, however, would be difficult.

“You took on a false name,” Michael commented outside.

“I decided that it was easier to create a new identity than explain that, yes, I was dead, but I’ve returned to life for the second time,” Adam answered. He gave an experimental jerk with his arm but Michael didn’t release him. “What are you doing here? How did you even get _out_?”

“Just like you did. We were both dropped off at the same place but I wanted to travel on to Heaven.”

“You left me? Well, thanks for that! So why aren’t you in Heaven now?”

After a pause, the archangel admitted: “It’s not possible.”

“What do you… no, screw that! What are you _doing_ here?”

“I was looking for you. You live in a dangerous place.”

“Fuck! I knew there was something wrong, but I swear it wasn’t like this when I got here!”

“How can you be certain?”

“Because back then my doctor wasn’t looking at me as if I was a double cheeseburger!”

Michael halted, forcing Adam to stop as well. The archangel turned his head towards the hospital, where Adam could see three men and a woman exiting the building. They didn’t seem to have seen them yet. Two of them where Dr. Johnson and Dr. Curtis.

“Are they…?”

Adam didn’t even get to finish before Michael fluttered his wings a bit and the scenery changed to a forest. The human squeaked.

“Warn me next time!” He reproached.

“There was no time,” Michael merely said. “They’re leviathans.”

“Levi what?”

“Leviathans. I don’t know how they came to this plane, they should have been in Purgatory. My father had them sealed away before he started creating us and humans. Now they’re here on earth while Heaven is closed.”

Adam couldn’t find anything to say to that.

“I tried finding your brothers.”

The human sneered. “So I’m just second choice again?”

Michael shot him a hard look. “Bobby Singer is dead. So are Sam and Dean – it is said. I haven’t been able to verify it yet. I came to you because you’re the only one left. And you should thank me for getting you out of that lair of leviathans. They eat their victims and take on their shape. They choose carefully; they prefer men and women of power to those without. They’re undermining the human population and I cannot tell yet what their goal is.”

“So what you’re saying is that – once again – the end is nigh. Newsflash, it’s 2012; the world is supposed to end this year anyhow!”

“Petulant boy!” Michael barked at him. “My father freed us from the cage for a purpose and you would throw his mercy back into his face?”

“I didn’t ask for this!” Adam retorted. “I didn’t ask for any of this! And how can you know it was God who fetched us from the cage? He probably still doesn’t care!”

“How dare you-“

“No, how dare _you_!” Adam was yelling now and he didn’t care. He still didn’t know where they were, but it was unlikely anyone would hear him. “I got out of the cage, where I spent _two hundred forty years_ in case you’ve forgotten! Your fucking brother _tortured_ me, your other fucking brother got _Sam_ out, fucking Death got his _soul_ out, and now that I’m finally free – _after two hundred forty fucking years!_ – you want me back! Just deal with your own shit and leave me for fuck’s sake out of it!” Adam breathed in shakily.

Michael seemed stunned, but he wasn’t likely to remain that way for long. The human turned around and walked off. They were in the middle of the woods, and Adam was unlikely to reach the edge any time soon, but he just wanted to be gone from here.

The archangel, of course, wouldn’t let him be, and simply appeared in front of the human.

“You are caught in this riddle as much as I am. If you won’t solve it with me, the world will end, devoured by the leviathans, who are never sated.”

Adam growled: “And if I don’t? Is the end of the world really all you can hold over me?”

“You’ll never find your way out of this forest.”

Adam was in a bad enough mood to try anyway. Even though he hated nature. He’d always preferred the warm inside.

“What exactly do you want me to do?”

“Your body would-“

“No!” The human immediately denied. “You’re not using me as a vessel again, definitely not!”

Michael frowned and his mouth tightened but he conceded: “Leviathans can tell that I’m an archangel. That is why the leviathans at the hospital were about to attack us. They know who I am just by looking at me. You’re human and they don’t know who you are. If we’re lucky, they won’t even know that you’re a relative of the Winchesters.”

Adam nodded, seeing where Michael was going. He could get to places the archangel couldn’t.

“Are Dean and Sam really dead?” He inquired.

“As I said before, I haven’t been able to verify it. That will be our first task. I haven’t been able to find Castiel either and if anyone knows all that has happened, it’s the Winchesters.”

Adam snorted. He hadn’t been around them for long, but long enough to tell that that was true.

* * *

Their first stop was Bobby Singer’s place. Adam wasn’t in a better mood than before, but Michael was perfectly capable of dragging him along anyhow.

Bobby Singer’s house was a burnt out ruin. The last time Adam had seen it, it definitely hadn’t looked like that. The salvage yard looked as messy as it had the last time – at first glance anyway. Adam wondered whether its sole purpose was to pretend to be a graveyard for cars while it was actually one for bodies.

“Damn,” he swore.

Michael didn’t comment and Adam wondered why, if the archangel had seen it before, he was dragging the human here.

“Is it safe to go in?” Adam inquired, eying the house suspiciously.

“Safe enough,” the archangel replied and went inside.

Gingerly Adam stepped up onto the floorboards of the front porch, quickly jumping into the hall when they creaked dangerously under him. The first room after the hall had to be the kitchen, if Adam remembered correctly. And the only other room downstairs besides the bathroom was the library, which was probably the more useful one for their purposes. Unfortunately, the odds of any books still being readable were zero.

Adam headed straight that way anyway. It was exactly as he had expected. He kicked the charred remains of what had once have been a sofa. If he thought about it hard enough, he could even remember sitting on it.

“What are we supposed to find here?” He called out to Michael who had remained in the kitchen.

“Anything useful,” was the unhelpful reply.

“Right,” Adam muttered. “The only useful thing I can see here is firewood.”

The books were burnt completely. He wondered whether Singer had had another place for his possessions. It seemed a bit imprudent to keep everything in one place – especially in his business. So either he had a storage somewhere, which they were unlikely to ever find, or the old man had had something like a _safe_.

Now that was an idea Adam could appreciate. He started to randomly knock along the walls of the library.

Just then, Michael entered.

“What are you doing?”

Adam glared at him. Here he was being helpful and what exactly was the archangel doing?

“I was thinking that perhaps Singer had a safe where he kept some of his stuff. I can’t believe that a guy like him would have everything in one place.”

Michael looked thoughtful. A ‘Good idea’ would have been nice but, of course, didn’t pass the archangel’s lips.

“Where would it be?” He asked instead.

“How am I supposed to know?” Adam returned, shooting the angel a black look. “It could be behind a shelf, under the floor, in his desk, I don’t know. Maybe he didn’t have one!”

Michael wasn’t deterred. He started taking the book shelves apart, the angel way of course. His muscles – his vessel’s muscles, that is – didn’t even bulge when he threw over one bookshelf after another, burnt remains of pages fluttering through the air and ash thrown up from the floor and all other surfaces. Adam coughed loudly and shot the angel a deadly look. It would have been a lot more effective if Michael had actually been looking at him.

And, surprise, surprise, they actually did find a safe, and Michael proved to be very good at cracking it. Adam wondered how much money they could make if he could actually convince the archangel to get into the business of cracking safes in banks instead of burnt down homes.

To Adam’s great disappointment they only found a bible inside. It looked old, but aside from that, it did not seem to be particularly special. He flicked through it.

“How is _that_ supposed to help us? Why is it even in that safe? It’s a book!”

“It’s a copy of the holy scripture as you know it,” Michael replied redundantly. Suddenly, his head jerked up.

“What is it?”

“Leviathan.”

Adam grimaced. “Again? Fuck! How many of these things are there?” He happened to take another glance inside the safe and saw something reflect the light. Reaching inside, he took out a gold ring and without giving it another look, put it in his pocket.

“Here? Just the one. It must have been watching this house.” The archangel’s blade slid into his palm. “Do not engage it in a fight,” he instructed, and then promptly disappeared.

A moment later, Adam heard the sound of a fight, and he ran outside where he could finally see the leviathan. The human was relieved to see it was really just one. But to his surprise, the fight was far from easy. Apparently, leviathans were stubborn – and strong. When Michael was forced to retreat, the leviathan spotted Adam. It opened its mouth, and Adam held onto the doorway to suppress his instincts to run. It was every bit as hideous as Tom had tried to tell him. Michael used the opportunity to cut its head off. The body toppled onto the ground, a few feet from the head, and a small lake of black goo spread out around them.

“Eew.” Adam pulled a face. Inwardly, he breathed a large sigh of relief.

The archangel didn’t seem to have the same problem. He searched through the body’s pockets, and came up with a cell phone which he handed to Adam.

“We should probably bury the body or something,” Adam suggested.

“We need to burn it. Leviathans are resilient. We need fresh bark of a myrrh tree to make sure it burns completely.”

“I guess you had better make a quick trip to Africa then.”

Michael did exactly that. But he didn’t return right away as Adam had expected. He waited and stared alternately at the surroundings and the ground. Later he would be glad, because otherwise he would never have noticed the pool of goo shrinking. It was steadily growing smaller, the body and the head seeming to absorb the goo. Tentatively, Adam poked it with a stick. The fingers of the body started twitching. He backed away.

“No angel to protect you now, is there?”

Adam jerked around. “What the…”

It was the head. The leviathan’s eyes were watching him, practically freezing the human in place. Only when the head actually _rolled_ towards the body, did Adam prepare to run.

“Michael,” he called, “I could really use you right now.”

Then the head had reattached itself and the leviathan was turning and tilting it as if to get used to it once more. Adam decided that now was a really good time to start running.

He got a small head start at least and the cars provided cover. He didn’t know much about leviathans, except that, according to Michael, their hunger was never ‘sated’ and that evidently they could reattach severed heads. Once Michael returned – and Adam was praying that he would – the archangel owed him an explanation. Provided that Adam survived that long. He was unarmed, and even if he had had a gun, he could barely remember how to shoot it and he didn’t think it would make a difference.

“Come here, little boy,” the leviathan called.

He sounded too close for comfort.

“I’m sure my boss would _love_ to talk to you. He once devoured an entire angel like yours.”

Oh, Adam hated it when they talked! It reminded him of when the ghoul wearing his mom’s face had told him in vomit-inducing detail what exactly it had done to his mom and would do to him.

Adam rolled beneath a car. In the next row, he could see the leviathan’s feet. It was still too close and he couldn’t see any sign of Michael. Silently, Adam swore. If that archangel got him killed (again, or whatever), he would make sure to come back and haunt him until the end of time.

Suddenly, he heard a car approaching. Not caring that the leviathan would hear him move, Adam rolled out from under the car, and ran back to the house. It was a police car, and he started waving his arms frantically.

“Help! I need help!”

Within seconds, the car stopped, the door opened and a woman, apparently the Sheriff around here, stepped out.

“What’s going on? Are you all right?”

“There’s someone after me,” Adam panted. “We need to get out of here, as fast as possible!”

“Who’s after you?” She insisted.

Adam laughed bitterly. “You wouldn’t believe me- fuck!”

The leviathan had caught up.

“Too late,” the monster laughed.

A loud shot made Adam reflexively cover his ears. The sheriff had actually _shot_ it. And here Adam had always thought they’d at least issue a warning first. In any case, while the bullet seemed to slow the leviathan down, it didn’t drop dead, which would have been much more preferable.

“Get the canister from the trunk,” the Sheriff ordered.

Adam sure as hell didn’t know what she was planning to do with a canister, but even his millisecond of hesitation earned him a barked: _“Go!”_

The canister was unmarked, but since it was the only one in the trunk, Adam assumed it was the right one. Thankfully, he had the mind to unscrew the top because the Sheriff ripped it from his hands and splashed the leviathan with the liquid. Whatever it was, it certainly had an effect: the monster howled with pain. Blisters and red open sores formed on its skin. And then, Michael _finally_ reappeared right behind the leviathan, sword ready in his hand.

He cut the leviathan from neck to hip, pulled the sword out and made another, this time horizontal cut. The leviathan lit up with light nearly as bright as an angel’s grace and then – it simply exploded. This time, it left not even black goo behind.

“Wow!” The sheriff commented, not nearly as surprised as she should have been. “How did you do that?”

“Good question,” Adam put in.

Michael seemed actually breathless. “I used my grace to reinforce the blow. It took more than I thought it would; the leviathans are strong. Not without reason did my father have them locked into purgatory.”

“Okay. Am I right in assuming that you can’t do that to an unlimited number?” Adam asked.

The archangel’s wide eyes, his nearly vulnerable look, spoke for themselves. He didn’t dare say it out loud and Adam cursed.

“So, who are you anyway?” The sheriff asked.

“I’m Adam, this is Michael,” the human replied.

She quirked an eyebrow.

Again, the younger man pointed at himself first, “Human,” and then at Michael, “Angel.”

“Angel,” the sheriff repeated. She seemed surprised, but not overly so. “Like the guy in the trench coat?”

“Castiel.” Michael immediately picked up. “Do you know where he is? Or where the Winchesters are?”

She stared at them. “Aren’t you behind? Which rock did you crawl out from?”

“Hell,” Adam groused. “You wouldn’t happen to know a place where I can get a good burger? I’m hungry.”

 

She did know a good place. She introduced herself as Jody Mills, the local sheriff – surprise, surprise – and former friend of Bobby, and by extension, the Winchesters. Apparently, she had been enlightened during the apocalypse, when loved ones that had died miraculously rose from the grave only to start killing and eating people five days afterwards.

The diner they went to was pretty good, and the owners knew the sheriff enough to give them a booth in the back where they wouldn’t be overheard.

“Castiel’s dead. He’s the one that brought the leviathans to earth.”

“How?” Michael demanded.

Adam rolled his eyes at the archangel’s eloquence and took another large bite from his burger. He was starved. If there was a safe way to inhale fries, he would do it. Or via injection.

“Well, I don’t know the exact details, but apparently there was a civil war in heaven between him and a guy named Raphael? There’s some kind of power in purgatory, but when he tapped it, he freed the leviathans instead. I think one is using his body or something. Haven’t seen that one yet. The most powerful leviathan is Dick Roman. He seems to be their boss, and Sam and Dean were after him since the beginning. Problem is, they never found a sure way to kill them.”

“What was in the canisters?” Adam asked between bites.

“Cleaning agent. They don’t like Borax, but it doesn’t kill them. Nor does beheading.”

The younger man pulled a face. “Yeah, I noticed. What about my brothers?”

Mill’s eyebrows practically disappeared in her hairline. “I didn’t realize Sam and Dean had a brother.”

“Half-brother. I was kind of away for most of the time we knew of each other.”

“I…see.”

He doubted that she did. “So?”

She shrugged. “I haven’t heard from them. They’re not answering their phones. Honestly, I have no idea whether they’re still alive. The leviathans are out to get them, if the police see their face, they’ll end up on death row or life in prison, depending on where they get caught; a pair of leviathans borrowed their faces for a killing spree and let’s not forget the rap sheet they built up all on their own. Either way, it doesn’t look good.”

“Great,” Adam commented dryly.

Michael didn’t say anything at first.

“How many leviathans escaped from purgatory?” He finally asked.

Sheriff Mills shrugged. “Don’t know. I don’t think even Sam and Dean knew. Hell, who knows if they procreate!”

“They don’t,” Michael said immediately.

“Thank God for that,” she muttered. “Since killing them isn’t much of an option then, is there a way to put them back where they come from?”

“There are ways, but none of them are easy.”

“No offense, but ‘easy’ hasn’t been part of my vocabulary since I found out what Bobby had buried in his backyard.”

“We need to catch each of the leviathans ourselves.”

Mills grimaced.

“Maybe they have board meetings?” Adam suggested.

“I know Dick Roman gathers some of his friends from time to time because that’s how Bobby got shot. After his death, Sam and Dean tried to track Roman down, but they couldn’t find him.”

“Wait! Isn’t Dick Roman that billionaire, the one who keeps taking over companies?”

“Exactly.”

“So? Wherever he is, there are news agencies and reporters!”

“That’s what your brothers thought, too. But Roman kept slipping through their fingers. Always gone by the time they got there.”

“We will be a lot faster because I can fly us there,” Michael put in.

“He’ll be surrounded by bodyguards,” Adam put in.

The sheriff nodded. “He is.”

“And you said yourself that they recognize you,” Adam finished. “And then God help us. Or, well, not.”

The archangel glared at him. “Do not insult my father.”

“Whatever. Just telling it the way it is.”

Mills glanced from Michael to Adam and back.

“You aren’t exactly friends are you?”

Adam grimaced. “More like bunk mates forged in hell.”

 

Adam went shopping. It was amazing how many laundry and cleaning detergents contained borax. Adam needed something which was liquid to make splashing easier. Or perhaps spraying. He resolved to buy some pepper spray as well. Michael, in the meantime, sought out the ingredients for a ritual to return the leviathans to purgatory. He had mentioned something of personally reaping myrrh, which made Adam wonder whether every damn ritual included myrrh.

Adam had gotten his way in one instance at least: he had forced Michael to book them a room, and not just any filthy motel room like his brothers had rented, but the nearest four-star-establishment in the area. Sometimes, angel air and a divine credit card could be wonderful.

He was enjoying a great, Argentinean steak courtesy of room service when the archangel returned. He looked roughed-up. Adam blinked in surprise and jumped out of his seat.

“What happened? _More_ leviathans?”

“Just two,” Michael replied, and if only two leviathans could get him into this much trouble, what would more do to him? “I annihilated them.”

“Damn. We need to find out how many of them there are. We don’t even know what we’re up against! This is suicide!”

Adam had never been much of a drinker – hadn’t had the chance to really try alcohol besides a bit of beer and his mother had told him enough horror stories of the drunks she’d seen in the ER that he’d never had the desire to drink much. He wanted a drink now. Preferably many of them.

Michael looked grim. “We must,” he said. “I know someone who can tell us their numbers.”

“Who?”

“Death.”

Adam swallowed. That didn’t sound good.

It involved another ritual, of course. But apparently one much shorter than ordinary humans would have had to employ. The floor started to tremble and Adam’s glass on the table shattered. It lasted less than ten seconds; an eerie silence followed.

“Well,” Adam drawled, “that was successful. Got another one?”

“What is it with this age? I’ve been called on more often in the last two years than in at least four millennia before that in total,” a voice contradicted him.

He swung around. An old, tall, gaunt man stood by the window front. He studied them.

“Michael,” he greeted the archangel with a nod. Then his gaze turned to Adam.

“Another one of the Winchester progeny. I knew you were here, of course. I simply didn’t count on you being just as interfering as your brothers.”

If anyone else had said this, Adam would have loved to protest vehemently. But in the face of Death, even he quailed.

“What is it that you want?” Death demanded.

“The leviathans. We need to know how many there are,” Michael said.

“Forty-seven. Anything else?”

“Forty-seven?!” Adam exclaimed. “Fuck.”

Because that definitely was too much for the archangel to handle.

Death gave him a look. “I realize it’s a bit much. You have that petulant little angel Castiel to thank for that.”

“Yeah, we heard.”

The being refocused on Michael. “We shall see whether the faith your father apparently placed in you – for lack of other options, I’m sure – is justified. As far as I’m concerned, you have proven yourself to be worse during the apocalypse.

“Can’t argue with that,” Adam muttered, but was ignored.

“Tell me, how do you plan to push forty-seven leviathans back into purgatory when you’re already exhausted by two? They won’t leave just because you ask.”

“I know that,” Michael says, and, wow, he actually sounded like he was gritting his teeth. Interesting.

“So, you’re not gonna... help in any way? I mean, you’re Death. Can’t you kill them?” Adam asked hesitantly while the archangel was still attempting to shoot bolts of lightning from his eyes.

“Do you think I’m here to babysit your planet? Your brother didn’t understand either but I had hoped that the rest of his family might be smarter. Let me tell you what I told him: I’m not here to tie your shoes every time you trip.”

“Erm, that’s good because I actually know how to tie my own shoes.”

If Death had considered it dignified to roll his eyes, he would probably have done it. The old man approached the table with Adam’s dinner and sat down. He poked a finger at the steak.

“Is it any good?”

Adam actually needed a moment to process that. Was the guy serious? “I think so.”

He made a gesture as if waving on a servant. “Order another. Bloody.”

“You want fries with that?” It wasn’t actually meant as a serious question.

“That would be nice.”

Adam frowned but followed the order and called the reception. He had his back turned to the others, but his ears worked fine.

“Sit down, Michael,” Death actually _ordered_ the angel.

Judging by the scrape of the chair, he complied.

His call done, Adam returned to the table and sat down. His mother had taught him to wait until everyone had been served their food before beginning to eat. Even at the risk of it getting cold he didn’t want to raise Death’s ire.

Death had apparently still not finished studying them.

“Dean and Sam attempted to move the leviathans back. They managed to return nearly all of the souls, and a number of the leviathans. If they hadn’t, your problem now would be a lot greater. Not that I condone their actions. They were pests, really.”

“They’re certainly dead?”

Just then, someone knocked on their door.

“Room service,” they called.

Adam swung around. “This fast-?”

“If I were you, I wouldn’t answer the door,” Death remarked. He didn’t look as if he was concerned though, or cared either way.

Adam froze. Michael, on the other hand, didn’t hesitate at all: he strode to the door, swung it open and pulled three leviathans inside. Adam jumped off his chair. Michael actually started to battle two of them, while the third zeroed in on Adam. Death he ignored completely.

That was Adam’s luck, as he backed away, past Death, who caught the leviathan following the human by the arm, grazing him with his hand rather than actually grasping him, but it was enough: it fell over dead, quickly disintegrating into a black pool of goo which evaporated like steam. Adam held his breath because he didn’t think he wanted to breathe it in.

But instead of doing the same handy thing to the two Michael was struggling with, Death only watched.

“Aren’t you going to, like, help him?” Adam asked.

The old man turned to look at him. “Do you want me to?”

What a strange question. Adam shrugged his shoulders helplessly.

“I certainly don’t want to die when they’re done with him!”

“Don’t worry about that.”

Adam didn’t feel like agreeing. Michael was fighting hard. He had drawn his sword and cut into the leviathans, but while the injuries were deep and bled black blood, they didn’t slow the beasts down.

Finally, Michael was able to behead one of them, a temporary solution but one that would buy him time, and then stabbed the other leviathan in its stomach, a bright light flashing and nearly taking Adam’s eyes with it if he hadn’t closed them at the last moment. The leviathan exploded like the last one, leaving no race of its existence behind. Visibly weary, Michael did the same to the immobilized leviathan on the floor, falling into a crouch with the downward movement of his sword. When he rose, he wobbled and he walked back to the table in an uneven line, although he tried. Even his eyes looked tired.

Adam remained silent.

Death cleared his throat.

“One of my brothers might be willing to help you out.”

“Who?” Michael asked shortly.

“War. You would only need one little thing.”

“What’s that?”

“His ring. He’s not entirely powerless without, of course, but he would greatly appreciate the gesture.”

“Where is it?”

“The Winchesters took it, along with Famine’s, Pestilence’s and mine. Dean returned mine to me, but my brothers are still missing theirs.”

Suddenly, Adam remembered the ring in the safe. It had only been the one, so he gathered that his brothers had hidden the rings in different places. The Milligan pulled the one he had out.

“It wouldn’t happen to be this ring?” He asked.

Death looked at the metal in Adam’s palm. “Look at that, it is War’s ring. Where did you find it?”

“At Bobby’s house in a safe. The others weren’t there.”

“No matter. Take this to War and he will reward you.”

Just then, someone knocked on the door again.

“Room service.”

Adam gave the door a suspicious look.

“Ah, that’s my steak,” Death said.

Michael didn’t move. A second, louder knock followed and Adam rose. Despite Death’s prediction, he opened the door cautiously, and, to his relief, found that it was really an employee of the hotel with a cart of food.

The employee served Death his steak and Adam noted how the horseman avoided touching the man.

“Let’s eat,” Death announced when the door had closed behind the hotel employee.

Adam was all for it while Michael merely watched listlessly. If he kept pulling this face, Adam would actually start pitying him.

 

Finding War wasn’t actually that hard once Death had finished eating and told them a nice way to call him. Nice as in polite, the opposite of impolite, the latter being a method the Winchesters had excelled at.

The good thing about War was that he could make the leviathans turn against each other. He’d rile a pair or more up to the point that they attacked and ultimately ate each other. In this way, Michael could save his energy and each match meant one down.

The bad thing about War was that he could make Adam and Michael turn on each other. This resulted in shouting matches, most loudly fought by the human while the archangel either ignored him or quickly left for a quieter place. It appeared that the angel was less, if at all, affected by the horseman. That didn’t prevent him from being unaffected when Adam threw insults at him. Adam had learnt quickly that the best way to get a rise out of Michael was to insult his brothers – Lucifer in particular was a sore subject; they might claim to want to kill each other, but God help you if you said anything against Lucifer! – and, of course, God himself.

They had a kind of arrangement with War. Or at least, Michael thought so; in Adam’s opinion, War did whatever he wanted to, and they were simply lucky that for the moment their goals was what the horseman considered fun. He refused to carry a cell phone – like Michael, and what was it with supernatural beings and their technophobia? – so he had to visit from time to time and he seemed to enjoy Michael and Adam’s rows as much as the leviathans’.

Unfortunately, the leviathans were starting to get that something was up and Michael and Adam quickly found themselves on a hit list. Michael, naturally, took it as a challenge and a sign that the battle was going well for them. Adam lay down on the hotel bed and panicked loudly. Within three weeks after their deal with War – his ring in exchange for his help against the leviathans – they were down to twenty-three leviathans.

And that was when the shit hit the fan.

“They’re gathering together in Chicago because they know how vulnerable they are alone,” War reported. “It makes things more difficult because if I remain close for too long, they see through my disguise and see that I’m not like them or human. Leviathans are not as stupid as humans.”

Michael nodded thoughtfully. The angel had seen little action the past few weeks. Whenever the leviathans got close, he swept Adam away but he didn’t engage their pursuers in a fight. Adam was starting to feel the anger rising up in him again. It happened more quickly these days than at the beginning. War glanced at him with eager eyes, most likely already aware of the effect he had on Adam. The human glared at him.

He was beginning to hate all of this: the leviathans, War, Death, the fact that he had been forced to be part of the “saving the world” two-some, Michael – especially Michael!

“Take on as many as you can,” Michael told the horseman. “We will take care of the rest.”

“What do you mean, _we_?” Adam interrupted. “It’s not like I’m actually of any use to you! And all I get in return is that my face is now on every leviathan’s wanted list!”

“I give you my protection!” The archangel replied forcefully.

Adam laughed harshly. “Protection? You? You can’t even take on more than two leviathans at a time, and you want to protect me?”

If Adam had bothered to look, he would have seen War smirking in the corner. But the human was fixated on Michael, who had approached the bed Adam was sitting on and loomed over him.

“How exactly do you think _we_ will kill more than twenty leviathans? Remember when you beheaded one? Didn’t work out that well, did it?! And borax doesn’t actually kill them either. So you had better come up with a plan, oh general!”

Faster than he could blink, the archangel had grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled Adam upwards towards him.

“Watch your words, child!”

Adam probably shouldn’t laugh at him. He couldn’t explain why he did either. Out of reflex he had grasped Michael’s hands, but no force in the world could have loosened the archangel’s hold on him. So he did what he believed to be the next best thing – shock him into letting him go.

Michael was completely unprepared for the human to palm the back of his head and pull his head down until they were close enough to kiss – which Adam promptly did, harsh, with plenty of teeth, and messy because Michael didn’t realize that an open mouth was considered to be an invitation and Adam didn’t actually have that much experience kissing.

The archangel allowed the kiss longer than Adam had expected.

“Don’t try to play this game with me,” he hissed against Adam’s lips. “You’ll lose.”

And he had the mind to prove it with another kiss, a lot less messy than Adam’s, a lot more skilled, but at least just as harsh, which was enough to force his vessel into submission, or at least, it should have been. Adam was stubborn, as his mother had noted to her own exasperation more than once. Adam didn’t give up, not even when the angel pushed him back down onto the bed with his own weight.

Even if Adam had tried he couldn’t have thrown him off. So he just lay there and did his best to at least make it look like he wasn’t just taking it. The kiss hadn’t worked the way he had intended it to – to throw the archangel off balance – so he decided to up the ante and reached for Michael’s crotch, palming the package he found there.

“Is this what you want?” Michael growled into his ear in a low voice.

He copied Adam’s actions, and had more success. The Milligan groaned, twisting his hips up, because, hello, horny young man here who hadn’t often had the chance to have sex, let alone in the past couple of weeks. Perhaps he should have resisted, but the archangel’s hand on his dick felt too fucking good.

It was over more quickly than he had expected, and he should probably feel embarrassed by it. In fact, it was embarrassing. He was lying on the bed, breathing heavily, and his boxers and pants were sticky with come. Michael sat back, wiping his hand on the bedspread as if there was nothing to it, as if he had thrown down just another rebel. Adam wondered whether he’d worn a similar expression when he had locked Lucifer in hell. War laughed in his corner and Adam flushed. He’d just gotten a hand job from an archangel after antagonizing him and the horseman War had watched him lose it.

“We leave in an hour,” their self-proclaimed general announced.

Adam didn’t bother replying. It was not like what he had to say mattered.

 

War at least, seemed to have fun. It appeared that not only was he able to antagonize leviathans to kill each other, he was also perfectly capable of doing it himself.

“You know,” he told Adam in a conversational tone, “thanks to your brothers I lost quite a bit of my power. But this lovely brawl is like fuel for me. So really, I should thank you.”

“Thank Michael if you think he’s so great,” Adam growled.

War smiled. “I met Lucifer a couple of times, you know. Me and him, we were great pals.”

That was actually really disturbing. “I don’t think I want to know about that.”

“Yeah, I hear you didn’t get along so well.”

“We didn’t have much in common.”

Why was he hanging around this guy? Oh, right. He knew a handy trick that made leviathans disintegrate, so he was way better to have around than Michael. He also had a better car: a 1965 Mustang in a lovely shade of red that was bound to turn heads. At the moment, they were waiting for Michael to return from wherever he had gone, parked in front of an office building which was not actually their target.

No, their target was a bit further down the road and across the wide street, a different office tower, which was registered to Dick Roman’s company. Michael had gone ahead to see whether check how many leviathans were currently inside. Adam idly wondered whether the archangel would care if some humans were still inside as well.

“You’re thinking of him,” War remarked with amusement.

Adam frowned heavily. “Can you read thoughts now?”

“That and, even better, emotions.”

“How is reading emotions better than being able to read thoughts?”

“You’d be surprised at how many humans lie to themselves, even in their minds. You’re actually a perfect example of that.”

Adam didn’t want to ask, he really didn’t. But then it burst out of him anyway. “How so?”

“Easy. You and Michael. You think you hate him, but just two days ago you let him into your pants. And, in this you’re actively lying to yourself, you liked it and you want it to happen again.”

“That’s not true!”

The horseman laughed loudly. “I love it when you humans say that!” In a sing-song he added: “Lies, lies, lies, all lies.”

“Shut up!” Adam burst out.

Nevertheless, War continued, this time more seriously: “I think he might like it, too.”

For a moment, Adam didn’t know what to say. Then, as he had just opened his mouth, Michael appeared in the backseat and he shut it, looking out of the car window to avoid the archangel’s gaze.

“Twenty-three,” he informed them shortly.

“All accounted for then,” Adam murmured.

“Yes,” Michael replied unnecessarily. Even with his face turned away the human could tell that Michael was staring at him.

“Are we going or not?” He added, ill-tempered.

 

They went. War had wanted to take the head-on approach: walk in through the lobby, tell the nice woman at the desk that they had come to kill Dick Roman and his cronies and walk on to do just that. Adam had argued in favor of a way that didn’t involve him.

Both he and the horseman had naturally been overruled by Michael, who wanted the teleportation-mode. They ended up in a broom closet, and no matter what War had implied earlier – or what had happened at the hotel - Adam so wasn’t up to a threesome with a horseman and an archangel when leviathans were probably hanging around just outside.

He was glad to be proven wrong on that account when they left their cramped quarters to a thankfully empty corridor. He thought the same thing in the next one, and the one after that, but by the fourth hallway, Adam was starting to wonder whether this was all an elaborate trap.

Thank God for the leviathan who unknowingly crossed their paths and was rendered to goo by War. Not a trap after all. Although Michael was walking ahead of them, it was War who had taken care of the leviathan.

The next door they opened led to a secretary’s office, which was empty, and the one after that to a huge office with a blinding view of the city. It was amazing what Adam noted before he became entirely aware of Dick Roman sitting behind a large desk; all alone.

“I was expecting you,” he said.

In Adam’s opinion, the smile was smarmy, and his greeting too stereotypical of villains.

“Couldn’t think of anything better to say, could you?” He remarked sarcastically.

If anything, the leviathan’s smile got even bigger. Michael ignored it completely and threw himself at Roman, sword ready in his hand.

Adam didn’t know what it was he was supposed to be doing, until the door opened and a veritable flood of leviathans entered. Now it wasn’t as if they hadn’t prepared for encountering all leviathans at once. But Adam still found it terrifying. He had two canisters of Borax, and he would be using every drop of it. Beginning with the one with the ugly mug who approached him now. It might not kill them, but it definitely slowed them down, and Adam also had a handy machete which he had learnt to wield with enough skill to separate a head from the body. Again, it might not kill them, but they were down for the count for a while and they could always take care of the bodies later.

It worked well for about two leviathans.

The plan had been that Adam would put up a bit of a resistance, but the actual fighting he’d leave to Michael and War. And really, that was what he meant to be doing, except that Michael was having a hard time, which he’d never admit, and while War was doing well, you couldn’t expect one horseman to kill a room full of leviathans on the spot.

The leviathans opened their mouths, displaying a row of razor-sharp teeth and a disgustingly long tongue, and Adam jumped back. He didn’t realize how close another leviathan had come, until the monster’s fist caught him in his stomach, and he was practically thrown backwards. He went straight through the floor-length windows, which had already been cracked and weakened by the others.

It was a prime “Oh shit!” moment, especially when he remembered that they had been on the tenth floor. Falling seemed to take forever. He was almost relived when everything went black.

* * *

Adam was tired. So tired, but he couldn’t find sleep either. His blurry eyes were directed at the TV which he had switched to CNN. The big explosion which had leveled Dick Roman’s tower was still a major topic, with experts still not having found what had caused it.

His insomnia had returned in full force, and if he finally found sleep due to exhaustion, he was usually woken by nightmares before long.

“Lovely, isn’t it?” War asked, throwing an arm over the back of the couch and, subsequently, around Adam.

When Adam had woken up, he had been lying in the bedroom part of a hotel suite. War had been watching reality TV out in the living room and Michael had been nowhere in sight. He hadn’t appeared since then, but he had been told by the horseman that the hotel room would be paid for as long as he needed it.

Adam felt empty. Only now that everything was over did he realize that he had been running on adrenaline, he’d been moving because Michael had demanded it of him. Now, all of that was gone and he was left behind alone. Well, not quite alone.

He didn’t reply to the horseman’s remark. He didn’t even know what he was referring to, let alone have the strength to come up with an answer. Adam wondered whether things would always be like that from now on: great if he was too busy to think, down when he had too much time.

With longing he thought of his mom, his home, his university. He could never go back to any of it.

“You should sleep,” War said, and this time Adam heard him clearly.

He snorted. “Would love to.” And because he didn’t want the horseman to make any other wiseass comments, he changed the topic. “Is Michael coming back at all?”

“I wouldn’t worry about him if I were you. He’ll see soon that saving the world once isn’t enough.”

Adam turned to look at him. “What do _you_ know of saving the world?”

“More than you’d think. Why do you think I and my brothers destroy?”

“I don’t know.” Adam shrugged. “Because you hate humans? Because you want to rule the world?” It sounded like perfectly plausible arguments to him.

The horseman chuckled. “We’re not James Bond villains. We destroy to enable something new to grow. Something better.”

“Huh. Does that ever actually work?”

“I think that’s enough of a history lesson for young humans.” War retrieved the remote tucked between Adam’s leg and the couch and turned the TV off. “Time for you to really go to bed.”

Adam complied. He suddenly felt more mellow than before. He shuffled into the bedroom, changed into pajamas and fell onto the bed. He was out before he had finished pulling the covers up.

 

The next day, War was out. Adam didn’t even know why he continued to hang around. He ate breakfast in the restaurant. Then, because he was sick of being inside and watching TV, he took a walk in the park. They weren’t in Chicago anymore; for some reason, Michael had chosen Denver instead.

“Excuse me!” A man called out.

Adam looked up. The man, probably in his late thirties, was approaching him quickly, without looking left or right.

“Adam! Adam Milligan!”

Adam flinched. Should he run? He quickened his steps.

“No, please, don’t run!” The man was panting by the time he got to Adam’s side. Apparently, sports wasn’t something he usually did in his free time.

“Who are you? How do you know my name?” Adam demanded.

The man smiled nervously. “I’m Chuck Shurley, a prophet.”

“Okay.” Adam wasn’t even surprised anymore. “And what do you want?”

“Well, uhh, Michael, he’s around, isn’t he?”

Adam narrowed his eyes at the ‘prophet’. “I haven’t seen him. And how do you know all that anyway?”

Chuck shrugged in embarrassment. “I’m a prophet. I see a lot of stuff. I used to see your brothers as well and wrote a series of books about it.” With an unhappy twist of his mouth he added: “They made me stop when they found out. Said they didn’t like their life story being sold to the public.”

Adam snorted. That sounded just like Sam and Dean, or what he had seen of them anyway. 

“Have you ‘seen’ them lately?” He inquired. He wasn’t quite sure he wanted an answer.

The other man gave him a weak smile. “Sorry, but no. Not for a while.”

Adam shook his head. He hadn’t expected anything else. He wasn’t even disappointed anymore. Too much bitterness lay between him and his half-brothers, and wasn’t that all the more pathetic because they had hardly spent any time together?

Before he could consider those thoughts any longer, Michael appeared next to them. He gave Adam one of those penetrating stares that Adam had had difficulties meeting since their fumbling in the hotel room. He looked away.

“Prophet,” Michael greeted Chuck, causing Adam to sigh with frustration which had been building up for days now and reprimand the archangel:

“You could at least learn to say ‘Hello’ before you do that!”

Michael gave him a blank look, and Adam rolled his eyes.

“I- I’ve got a message for you,” Chuck stuttered.

The angel frowned. “From who?”

“Your father.” And because Michael looked as if he was short of grabbing Chuck by the lapels of his jacket he rushed on. “The message is: you have a lot left to learn.”

Michael froze. A silence ensued which Adam broke at last by saying:

“I guess saving the world was not enough.”

“It may explain why heaven is still shut,” Michael remarked quietly.

“So what are you going to do? Help old ladies cross the street? Fight against hunger in Africa? Or against animal cruelty in the neighborhood? Global warming?”

The archangel looked around the park as if looking for something. His next task perhaps. Then his gaze landed on Adam and his expression…

“Oh no!” Adam cried out, backing away. “No, absolutely not!”

Michael, nearing him rapidly, caught him by the arm.

“It’s time to go back to the hotel,” he declared.

And as if chaperoning him wasn’t enough, he grasped him by the wrist and unless Adam wanted to make a scene, he was forced to go with him. Michael didn’t seem to care that Chuck didn’t follow them, and while Adam looked back, the prophet merely watched them unmoving. He did throw an assuring smile at Adam, which didn’t quite fit with his earlier insecurity.

 

They went back to the hotel. War was back and had left a message for them to join him in the restaurant. Whether Michael had planned for it or not, they soon sat at a table and read through the menu. Or rather, Adam and War read through the menu, Michael just sat there.

“You should eat something,” Adam commented after a short glance at him over the menu. 

“I don’t need nutrition.”

“It looks strange. You don’t sit down in a restaurant to not eat.” The Milligan stared the archangel down with a raised eyebrow – just like his mother used to do – until Michael complied.

“So, how long are we staying here?” War asked.

Adam nearly dropped the card. “What do you mean, _we_? Shouldn’t you, like, go somewhere?”

“Sure. Africa, the Middle East, South America. But only off and on. Most of the time, people are perfectly capable of making war on their own.”

“You’re always on earth?”

“Of course. Whether I hang around here or elsewhere is really my decision.”

“You’re not going to start a war just by being here?”

“I can control myself and my powers.” The horseman smirked. “You’ll see, we’ll have great fun together!”

Having trouble sleeping seemed to be the least of his problems now. He wondered what he’d done to deserve this. Or what his brothers had gotten him into. And, speaking of…

“We haven’t found out yet where Sam and Dean are.”

A waiter approached and took their orders. Michael patiently waited until he was out of earshot to reply:

“We found some objects in Dick Roman’s office which belonged to your brothers.”

“How can you be certain?”

“They were fake IDs with their photos on them.”

“Okay. So, either they were in that building, or Roman raided their stash. That still doesn’t tell us whether they’re alive. Don’t you think they’d have showed up if they were?”

Michael shrugged. “I don’t know.”

Adam was stumped when the archangel didn’t add anything else. He felt at a loss. He hadn’t had much time with Sam and Dean. They apparently hadn’t felt an obligation to get him out of the cage. Did he have an obligation to them?

“You know,” he began, “perhaps we should look for them.”

Michael shrugged again. “If you like.” It didn’t look as if he cared, but Adam thought that he knew the angel better by now; even if he didn’t see any sign of it, he felt certain that Michael knew that he _needed_ to know what happened to the two men who had given him so much trouble.

“It could be fun,” War joined. The grin he gave looked positively bloodthirsty.

Adam guessed that War hadn’t parted with his brothers on friendly terms. He couldn’t say that he was surprised.

He gave a sigh. “Certainly sounds like it.”

At least he wouldn’t have time to think.

**Author's Note:**

> **Credit**
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> There are many people I have to thank for. First of all the entire adamwinchester livejournal community and everyone who participated in the spn_adambang. It is a truly great comm and each of the members helped.
> 
> Unless I want to parrot back all names of the participants of the spn_adambang, I have to restrict myself to bluebells, ladyknightanka, lady_astrild and my dear friend theron09, who also acted as my beta. Lady_astrild especially is to blame for every Adam/Michael/War scene. And finally I'd like to thank my artist votaku for choosing my story and creating such great and amusing art for it!


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